


Kind Hearts Don't Grab Any Glory

by figure8



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Movie Fusion, Alternate Universe - Space, Alternate Universe - Star Trek Fusion, F/M, Human Scott McCall, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-04
Updated: 2014-02-04
Packaged: 2018-01-11 05:04:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1169011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/figure8/pseuds/figure8
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Scott, you’re the youngest captain Starfleet has had since Jim Kirk. Of course people are going to be interested in you.” </p><p>---</p><p>Scott McCall is just a cadet when he embarks on the USS Farragut in April 2257. Lycan has declared war on Earth, and the Federation is sending its finest into space to counter the first attacks. This includes Commander Derek Hale, First Officer on the Farragut, who also happens to be a Lycan; and Stiles Stilinski, Scott's best friend, barely out of Starfleet's Medical Academy. </p><p>Together, they kind of save the world.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kind Hearts Don't Grab Any Glory

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TheSecretFangirl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSecretFangirl/gifts).



> this is the most self-indulging thing i have _ever written_ , jeeeesus. it's literally me chanting about scott mccall's exploits disguised as this poor excuse for a fic. also star trek. a lot of star trek, and a lot of obscure fandom references. it would never have happened without [sven](http://chekov.co.vu) continuously pouring headcanons into my inbox, so thanks for that, sven. this one's for you~
> 
> unbetaed, even if i do believe this will change very soon. keep in mind that although i do my very best, english is not my native language? rating may or may not go up, and characters will keep being added to the tags as they effectively appear in the story. i somehow know where i'm going with this, and my guess about the final product would be a good 10-15k.  
> title from kids in america by kim wild, because i'm an ~old soul~

The fact Scott is surprised when the doors open and the yard is full of paparazzi waiting for him will always make Stiles laugh. When he tells his hypothetical grandchildren the story in some decades, it’s going to be his introduction.  _“This is the tale of how my best friend became the most important man in the whole Federation and wasn’t even aware of it.”_

But right now, the only thing in Stiles’ mind is that they have to somehow make it through the crowd, preferably without provoking a riot. Almost by instinct, his hand finds its way to Scott’s forearm, gripping it tight.

“Hey,” he whispers, “you okay?”

Scott takes a moment to answer, stares in disbelief at all these people who are staring at him in return. “I don’t understand,” he says finally. He sounds so tired, so much older than his twenty-two years. Stiles’ stomach clenches.

“Scott, you’re the youngest captain Starfleet has had since Jim Kirk. Of course people are going to be interested in you,” he says softly. “Now hold your head up, buddy. Our faces are going to be all over the news, let’s at least give them our best profile.”

The door behind them opens again, and Derek appears, looking  _regal_  in his black uniform. “Captain,” he greets, before turning to Stiles, “Lieutenant Commander.”

The rank has a weird ring to Stiles’ ears. It’s still new and raw, and he’s too used to  _Doctor_. Besides, thinking that Derek is technically his  _subordinate_  now is just plain wrong. “Let’s go,” he shakes his head. Derek nods.

Scott should walk first, make his leading position clear. Scott has never followed rules he deems unjust, though, so he walks right next to Stiles instead. Stiles knows his best friend wanted Derek at his left, the three of them a well-defined and ostensibly equal entity, but the Lycan is too hung-up to the notion of protocol for this to happen. Their rhythm is steady, though, and the crowd just effortlessly  _parts_  to let them tread through.

 _So this is it_ , Stiles thinks,  _this is how it feels to save the world._  He glances furtively at Derek. The set of his jaw is tense, and his eyes are gleaming electric blue. He’s beautiful in a very _hard_  way, all sharp edges and cold smiles. Stiles knows what is underneath the façade –dry wit and warm touches, enough loyalty to shake the foundations of the earth– but right now it’s easy to fall for the illusion. It’s easy to ignore how it was back there on the ship, when the adrenaline and the fear were high enough to make them forget about planets and ranks and past feuds and they were all just  _brothers_ , ready to die for each other at any moment.  _Certain_ they were going to die, too.

“Captain McCall,” a reporter calls, “how do you feel about having a Lycan First Officer after what happened on the Farragut?”

Stiles knows the scandalized expression currently blossoming on Scott’s face  _by heart_.  He doesn’t even have the time to think  _shit, we’re dead_ , because Derek already crossed the distance separating them and freaking  _growls_ , “don’t answer, Captain.” He then proceeds to flash his blue eyes at the guy, even shows some fang. It’s incredibly stupid and reckless, and Stiles feels  _immensely proud of him_. It’s also a better solution than Scott headbutting the idiot. Which would have happened. Stiles can only imagine the headlines. Admiral Deaton would have their heads on a  _stick_.

There’s a shuttle waiting for them at the end of the yard, patiently stationed. The windows are black, and Stiles appreciates the thought. Starfleet Command fucks up a lot, but at least their PR strategy is on point. The doors slide open with a soft  _poof_ , revealing a cosy interior, leather seats and everything.

“Wow,” Scott says, “they don’t do things by halves.”

The lights respond happily to the sound, and the computer’s voice greets them. “Voice command activated. Voice recognition: correct. Welcome on board, Captain McCall.”

“Holy shit,” Stiles whispers excitedly. Behind him, Derek chuckles fondly. 

“You’re the darlings of the Federation now,” he says. “Don’t be so surprised.”

“Hey,” Stiles scolds him, “you were there too.”

Scott nods. “Derek, we would all be dead without you.”

“It doesn’t matter. What happened up there, Scott, it will  _never really matter_. If you want to last, you have to get this. Starfleet is not about recognition of true heroes. At some extent, yes, what we do is peacekeeping and exploration, but first of all, we’re a military organization in a galaxy-wide world. It’s all about propaganda. You deserve your promotion, of course you do,” he adds hastily, “but it’s not really about merit. I would have been a better hero dead,” he finishes with a humourless laugh. “So I guess I’m not a hero at all.”

They’re just kids, Stiles realizes while looking at Scott’s sad face, at Derek’s resigned expression. They’re kids at war; stupid, careless kids with guns and smiles for the cameras.

He was a cadet when he first stepped on the USS Farragut barely a year ago. Graduation was normally only in a month, but then Lycan declared war on Earth and everybody was mobilized, and then their CMO died and that’s how Stiles found himself directing a medbay full of almost-dead people and inexperienced nurses calling him Doctor when he wasn’t even officially a doctor yet. 

Scott was a cadet when he saw their Captain fall into the emptiness of space and found himself on a deserted bridge and a jarring ship. He was a cadet when he saw Derek being beamed down against his will on a Lycan ship, leaving the Farragut without his First Officer and Acting Captain. He was a cadet when he sat on the chair against all regulations and took the decisions that literally  _saved their fucking planet._

And now they’re sitting in press conferences and visiting hospitals and they give speeches and Scott’s face is on  _t-shirts_.

It’s fucking crazy, that’s what it is.

“Hey,” Scott lightly shakes his shoulder, “we’re gonna be okay. We made it through hell on that ship, there’s no reason for us not to make it now.”

And as the shuttle drifts on the air, Stiles thinks of everywhere he’s been with Scott, of how they always find a way out in the end as long as they’re together, and he smiles. “Yeah, Scotty. I believe you.”

“Good,” Scott laughs. “Because I want to stop for ice-cream and Derek is going to say no, and I need you on my side.”

From the corner of his eye, Stiles can see Derek pretending he didn’t hear that.

“You’re the captain now,” Stiles huffs, “if there’s one time you should pull rank, it’s definitely now.”

Derek’s face when Scott  _orders him_  to eat ice-cream is priceless. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> come say hello [here](http://haleinski.co.vu), maybe? :)


End file.
